


omake-pfadlib

by F12Scuderia



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Anxiety, Blood and Gore, Character Death, Depression, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Martial Arts, Mental Breakdown, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:40:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29665329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/F12Scuderia/pseuds/F12Scuderia
Summary: Before Erwin, Levi "bonded" with someone else. She will always be Erwin's little sister first, and anyone else second. She is a troublemaker, a daredevil, chaos made flesh. She is not for the faint of heart. And her smile−oh her smile−dares Levi to fall in love with her. It is a madness, a terrifying feeling of devotion, a forbidden pleasure all at once−yet there is always a charm about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably and painfully desirable. [Eventual smut]
Relationships: Levi Ackerman & Original Female Character(s), Zeke Yeager/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	1. My Recruits

**Chapter 01**

****

****

**_Erwin I – My Recruits_ **

***

Erwin Smith has never been in a principal's office before.

He is not even here for his bad behavior, but someone else's. He feels more like a parent called on to the office for their child's crimes, and he has to receive the brunt of the principal's temper.

He stands before the mahogany desk, his back perfectly straight, hands behind him, no hair out of place. His brown jacket and inner white shirt have been washed and ironed, his black boots polished to perfection. On his back, he proudly displays the Wings of Freedom.

The instructor has a thick document laid ready.

"Have a seat, Squad Leader Smith."

"Thank you, Instructor Roth."

"Do you know why you're summoned here?"

"I believe it has something to do with one of your subordinate instructors."

"Ah, then you're aware." Roth seems pleased, flipping to the first page of the document. He puts the paper flat on the table so that Erwin could see, even upside-down, the profile of their subject. Even in this strange angle, Erwin sees the familiar hair and face. Roth's beady dark eyes squint at the younger man.

The Head Instructor clears his throat and starts reading from the file: "Enlisted for military training in year 838 and graduated with the 95th Training Corps batch in year 841, then served as combat instructor for the next three years." He glances up at Erwin's stoic face, before continuing: "My evaluation: a severe 'get-it-done' mindset−"

"An admirable trait in any soldier," Erwin points out.

"Has trouble operating with others−"

"She's independent."

"Too focused and not considering other's perspectives−"

"Which implies decisiveness."

"And too focused on doing their way−"

"A determined individual, for sure."

Roth shoots him a deadpan look. "She had a fistfight with one of the other instructors."

Erwin takes it all in stride. "Disciplinary measures can be implemented."

The older man sighs and leans closer to the table. He looks immensely weary, like an old man in the brink of collapse. Just how much of a headache could one subordinate give this man? "A combat instructor who encourages their students to use knives−real knives−during training? There were three injured!"

"Pain is temporary. Pride is forever," Erwin counters smoothly. As resolute and dauntless he has been all his life. "Additionally, a combat expert should be an invaluable asset in the field."

"Sure," Roth scoffs. "She can start a fight in an empty room and still manage to walk out with bruises!"

Erwin offers a small smile.

Roth slams his hands on the table, rattling the vase on the corner and stirring his otherwise medium-sized and quiet office. His dark eyes try to bore through the younger man's hard demeanor, but there is nothing that fazes Erwin Smith. Those cold blue eyes stare right through his own. Stiffening, he backs down from his little outburst and heaves a tired sigh.

"In any case, I summoned you here so you could take over," Roth says as he rubs the bridge of his nose.

"I would be glad to. In fact, I've been looking forward for this. Would this be all, Instructor?"

"Here." Roth hands him an envelope. "An endorsement letter from the Training Corps to the Survey Corps. Commander Shadis can handle this, I hope."

"Thank you." Erwin hides a small smile as he heads for the door. "Oh," he says, one hand around the doorknob, as if a new thought strikes him. "Where is the forge?"

"Forge?"

"A workshop."

"Oh. That old shack, you mean?" The instructor waves his hand, dismissive. "Eastern barracks, behind the ration stores, I think."

As the soldier is leaving, Roth calls out again with a cheeky smile. "Living up to the Smith name, eh?"

Erwin merely glances over his shoulder, observing the way Roth smiles from ear-to-ear, and then walks out of the office and back into the sun-kissed field of the Southern Division of the Training Corps. Out here, the wind is warm and the sun a constant reminder of the spring season.

He turns around the corner and meets up with his Team Leader.

"Well, that was faster than I expected," Mike says by way of greeting.

"Yeah, I expected him to berate me for at least an hour."

"Good thing he didn't." Mike walks with his friend, as he sniffs around the vicinity.

Erwin knows the taller man could smell the faint wildflowers growing behind the fences. He himself finds that he likes the warmth of the place, the bits of grass accompanying the warm breeze, unlike in the walled cities and their constant dust.

Mike looks down on the envelope. "So, the ticket out of here?"

"Definitely." Erwin chuckles.

The two Survey Corps soldiers wound their way through the expansive compound, losing their way twice and having to resort to asking directions, twice. They could lead expeditions outside the Walls and pinpoint three-meter Titans from a bleak horizon, but could not tell where east and west in this damned place. One of the trainees is kind enough to point them to the shortcut.

When Roth described it as an old shack, he is not wrong. Erwin and Mike are surprised to see a rundown cottage with poorly nailed wooden roof, and a door hanging slightly ajar from its rusting hinges.

"Are we in the right place?" Erwin mumbles to his companion.

"Well, I smell coal dust and molten iron," Mike says. "If that's any help."

Erwin sighs and sets his shoulders. He approaches the shack carefully, like a predator stalking its prey, and raps his knuckles on the door. Knowing the place, it could be beset with traps−a bucket of nails on top, a quick knife slashing down from the doorframe. Anything might happen. He hasn't been around her for some time, but he knows her well enough. He glances once at Mike behind him, who shrugs uselessly. Erwin makes a face and puts his head round the door.

"Hello? Anyone here?"

Cue the hiss of a heated iron dipped into cold waters.

"Ah. There you are." Erwin steps into the shack. "I missed you," he adds casually.

"Bold of you to assume that I missed you, too."

The person behind the forge straightens and walks into view.

Erwin's cold demeanor melts at once. He steps forward and opens his arms. She shoots him a pointed glare as she wipes her calloused hands on her soot-covered apron. The Squad Leader just chuckles at her display or temper−genuine or not−and puts a large hand over her head instead, petting her as he has always done. At once, the temper subsides and she smiles up at him.

She reaches him only to the chest, her petite build contrasting his large and muscled physique. Her long silver hair is tied up into an unkempt bun, with strands falling messily over her forehead and to the sides of her face. She sighs in satisfaction at his attention.

"What brings Squad Leader Tall, Hot and Handsome all the way in Wall Maria?"

"You−" Erwin feels his cheeks grow warm. "Don't call me that."

She just laughs.

Mike also pokes around the door, his nose up in the air. "Oh, well, look who's here."

In an instant, she grabs something from her workstation and beelines towards the taller man. "Look, look, Mike! I designed this gauntlet so that it has a hidden blade from the inside!" she gushes over to him like an excited puppy−Erwin and Mike could almost imagine a tail wagging excitedly. "It's only a prototype now, but when I finish it, will you use it on the next expedition?"

Erwin's shoulders drop. Why does she look and sound happier when Mike appeared?

Mike notices his friend's dilemma and laughs, placing a hand on her head, calming her a little. "Sure, whirlwind, I can test it out for you. Are you sure you don't want to try it for yourself though? It might prove useful for our expeditions."

The taller soldier doesn't miss Erwin's quick knowing glance.

"In that case, I should make sure this is expedition-ready when the time comes," she says, cradling the gauntlet to her chest. Then she blinks up at them and notices the sudden silence. She coughs to gain their attentions. "So, to whom do I owe the pleasure of having tall and handsome young men in my workshop? Certainly, I didn't earn this treat for nothing."

"Roth gave you honorable discharge from the Training Corps despite your bad record," Erwin tells her. He waves the envelope for her to see.

"It wasn't my fault his combat training curriculum is crap."

"He told me there were three injured trainees."

"Did he expect enemies to come at you with a wooden knife, screaming their lungs out? I think not."

"What kind of curriculum did you even implement?" He raises his eyebrow at her.

"Just defensive tactics," she says, shrugging. She puts one hand on her hip. "Anyway, now that I am excused from the Training Corps, what now?"

"You get to join us in the Survey Corps," Mike answers.

"The Survey Corps−finally!"

"We're not returning yet," Erwin interrupts her celebration.

"Oh? Why not?"

"We have one more stop. Take only the important stuff."

She disappears behind the forge, and returns a minute later with a large sack over her shoulder. The metal and iron parts clink and clank with every step she takes. She slips on the gauntlet prototype around her wrists and catches Erwin's look of disapproval. The Squad Leader says nothing and moves on.

She follows them, walking in-between the soldiers. "Where to, Erwin?"

"To the Underground City."

***

After stopping by the Training Corps, two more soldiers from Erwin's Squad join them. A young man and a woman with a wagon strapped to their horses. Their little group passes through Wall Rose to enter the territory of Wall Sheena. No one but Erwin and Mike know the exact reason of their excursion, and none of the newcomers are daring to ask questions.

The checkpoint at Wall Sheena immediately recognizes the crest emblazoned on the four soldiers' uniforms. The blue-and-white insignia. The Wings of Freedom. It is everything that Erwin and the Survey Corps soldiers believe in. To take humanity beyond the Walls−and further.

But that dream can wait. For now, instead of beyond the Walls, they are going beneath the ground−where the ceilings are the skies, and the streets are forever shrouded in shadows and corruption.

Erwin and his group stop before a small company of Military Police officers. "We have permission from the higher-ups to conduct business here," he tells them in his usual stoic voice.

"Hmph. Never got the memo," one of the officers shoots back.

"Plus, what do you think you're doing, dragging down a civilian like this?" The second one sneers to the center of the group, where the new recruit is huddled between Erwin's subordinates.

She senses his sneering at her and draws herself to her tallest height−a mere five foot two−and comes stomping towards the police officer. Her rebellion comes short when she feels Mike's heavy hand upon her shoulder, keeping her in place while Erwin handles the negotiations.

In the end, the MPs agree to let them into the Underground City.

"Just so you know," the first one drawls, "there are troublesome brats stealing very recently. Watch out."

"We'll do our best," Erwin returns with a hint of sarcasm.

The officers lead them down the long staircase that connects the Underground City to Mitras. The place already reeks with something foul and corrupted, fitting the den of thieves and killers. Their boots resonate throughout the tunnel. The MPs stop at another checkpoint and inform the men there of their business. Whenever the Military Police is involved, anything goes smoothly.

Shrouded in darkness, Erwin feels a small hand on his forearm. He looks down on her.

"It's dark, Erwin," comes her small voice.

"The lights will be here soon," he assures her. "Just a few more yards."

They continue down the road, until they see the glittering lights of the city. It is a beautiful sight, despite the lingering shadows. Lights of green, yellow, and red twinkle light stars in the night skies. Instead of skies, the city has a stone ceiling and columns of rocks as their pillars.

Erwin gives out orders, hoping to lure their supposed targets. When he turns to his latest recruit, he sighs and tells her, "You're good as you are."

"Really? You don't want me chasing your criminals?"

"No, not in those civilian clothes." He points at her blouse and pants ensemble.

"Alright, then I'll wait for your return. I'll be around here somewhere," she singsongs, already looking around the new territory. Six years after Training Corps, the Underground must be like a new playground in her eyes. It's never a good sign for Erwin.

"Keep out of trouble. Don't make a scene," he reprimands as he leads his squad and the MPs to the city.

"Is it safe to let her wander on her own?" Mike whispers in Erwin's ear as they soar through the air using their vertical maneuvering equipment. He adds in a warning tone: "You know how she is."

"She's in the Underground. If there's one thing, she's in her natural habitat already."

***

If Erwin has to be honest, the plan could have gone worse for his team. Much to his luck, Mike subdued the leader of the thieves, allowing Erwin the chance to get in-between them and clash against the thief. He is quite strong and quick on his feet−this esteemed thief of theirs−and surprisingly, has a soft spot for his comrades. When Erwin threatened to turn them over to the MPs to live the rest of their lives in misery, the thief swallowed his pride and chose to join the Survey Corps instead.

Look at them now.

Three of them. A young man with light blond hair and grey eyes−he appears to be the voice of reason in this small group. Then a younger girl, with reddish-brown hair and fierce green eyes−she is the spirit of the group, the heart. Erwin's mind wonders where his latest recruit might be now.

The last member. Raven hair and intimidating blue-grey eyes. Even without words, the ambiance around him declares something authoritative and dangerous. An 'approach with caution' kind of man. Erwin knows this one would not disappoint.

_Levi, isn't it?_

"Should we be heading back?" Mike asks, casting their dubious recruits with a furtive expression. His olfactory skills could only do much, but near these three, he must smell the danger, especially from the dark-haired leader. That one keeps glaring daggers at him, even handcuffed.

"Yes." Erwin nods to his two other subordinates, who guide the recruits to their feet. He would not risk removing their handcuffs while they are still deep underground.

"Hey, hey, hey," the blond thief calls out. "Now that we're comrades, can you remove these cuffs now?"

"Not until we reach headquarters." Then Erwin turns over his shoulder, observing the thieves and meeting the leader's incessant glare. He ignores him and addresses the blond one. That one seems more friendly and approachable than the other two. "Where is the nearest blacksmith's shop here?"

"Blacksmith?"

"Or anything weapon-related? A forge, perhaps? Is there any place someone sells knives?"

"Ah! I know someone!" The red-haired girl beams. "There's old man Gingold who polishes knives!"

"Where is that?"

"About three blocks from here," the blond mumbles, quite confused. What do these arrogant Survey Corps soldiers need from an old man's shop anyway? He shrugs. "Make a left turn here and it should be three blocks away. It's a noisy place, you can't miss it."

Erwin nods and walks in pace with Mike. Not three minutes later, the taller man takes a sniff.

"Uh-huh," Mike says. "That's her alright."

Curiously, the three thieves-turned-recruits crane their necks to get a better view.

There, in front of Gingold's shop, is a young woman with a slight build and wearing a civilian's clothes. She is checking the large knife Gingold offered her, and makes comments on the blade's rusty edges, or the rickety hilt, or the poor condition of the blade's surface. The blond one and the red-haired girl blink in utter confusion, but not their leader. He is content with frowning and glaring.

"You should really try a cream cleanser to remove all this rust," she is berating Gingold.

"But those cleansers are expensive," argues the bearded man. "Not to mention, it smells nasty!"

"Are you going to stab your opponent with a knife that smells like roses in springtime? No!"

"Yeah, yeah, I get your point, lady−but those cleansers are still expensive!"

"Or just put it in oil and leave for a few hours. Then scrub off the excess rust with steel wool."

"Even steel wool is expensive, you know…"

"Sandpaper, then?"

"Fine, I will do it−"

"Are we about done here?" Erwin interrupts, once again raising the eyebrow at her.

"I was just helping this poor man with his trade." She sighs, blue eyes flitting behind Erwin and Mike, noticing only then the three newest members of their little group. She turns for the old man and waves. "Thanks for this. See you next time, mister!"

Finally, with their group complete, Erwin leads them towards the staircase. His recruit hums as she walks beside him, before stealthily slowing her pace until she is walking beside Mike. Quieter still, she keeps humming and rounds towards the back of the group, then stepping forward so that she is walking in pace with the dark-haired thief, whose facial expression is still nowhere the range of amused.

Erwin watches the exchange from the corner of his eye.

Her deep blue eyes assess his stoic face, trace the curve of his jawline. Her attention is particularly glued to his haircut−undercut, with the strands of his black hair falling neatly to the sides of his face. She lets her eyes wander lower, from his turned-up collar, maroon vest, and black pants.

Observing his pants, she notices something and reaches out for him.

The thief freezes in his steps, side-eyeing her with seething hatred.

"I hope you don't mind if I borrow this," she says, twirling his knife between her fingers.

"Where did you get that?" Greta, one of Erwin's subordinates, asks.

"Hm? Oh, it was hidden there in his pants. It was making quite a bulge and it was distracting me."

Erwin feels the need to slap his forehead for her wrong choice of words.

On the other side of the group, Mike puts his hand over his mouth and chuckles. The recruit pouts, childish, unsure what it could be that made this thief a bit embarrassed and Mike grinning like an idiot.

Still pouting, she calls out to the front. "Erwin! Mike is laughing at me!"

"Mike−" Erwin says in a scolding tone. "Stop laughing at Signe."


	2. Annoying Brothers

**Chapter 02**

****

****

**_Sieglinde I – Annoying Brothers_ **

***

After the Underground City, Erwin has shuffled his latest recruits into the wagon.

Sieglinde remains seated by the wagon's opening, her eyes forever darting back and forth the small space. She studies the three thieves and the angle of their hands and bodies, where their eyes are looking, which one seems the strongest and which one is the weakest. A force of habit, born from her days out in the streets and her training days back with Instructor Roth. Sensing that these three would pose no threat for the time being, perhaps except that sneering leader, she decides to relax a little.

The ride back to Wall Rose is a quiet one. She keeps to herself, studying everything that comes to pass. Once or twice, she hears the clanking of handcuffs behind her, and she stiffens, ready to act.

"Sieg." That's Mike's voice. The soldier directs his horse behind the wagon. "Everything all right?"

"Y-Yeah." She slumps down on her seat. "By the way, when's the next expedition?"

"Excited much? You've never been out of the Walls before, have you?"

"No," she says, laughing a little. "All those years in the barracks and never once saw a Titan."

"Well, don't count on it too much." Mike stares up ahead, to where Erwin is riding at the head of the group. The fields are in bloom around them, framing the leader against the horizon. "If you're lucky, you will stay at headquarters and continue instructing combat. No need for you out there."

"And let all my training go to waste? Not a chance."

Mike raises his eyebrow at her, meeting her smiling face, and breaks into a quiet chuckle. "We'll see."

Passing through Stohess District and continuing towards south, they arrive at the headquarters with a few hours of daytime left. Sieglinde jumps off the wagon just as Erwin swings off his large horse and drops to the ground with a cloud of dust beneath polished shoes. Their eyes meet−different shades of blue−until Erwin turns away first and hands the reins to one of his subordinates.

"Greta, take the recruits for their uniform-fitting, then bring them back for an introduction at the quadrangle," he orders, walking towards the main building.

The female soldier nods, flitting her gray eyes to the recruits in question. Mike and the other subordinate lead the horses and the wagon back to the stables.

"This way, please." She gestures to their left.

Sieglinde follows closely behind Greta, noticing how the soldier has one hand gripping the hilt of her blade under the cover of her forest-green cape. It is encouraging to know that not only Sieglinde is wary of these Underground criminals, and walks in pace with the soldier.

Greta takes them towards the eastern side of the barracks, to a long bungalow. She opens the wooden door and steps into the room, ushering the first two thieves, while Sieglinde and the other thief step back a pace to observe their surroundings.

The old castle complex, the Survey Corps' main headquarters inside Wall Rose, has a circular pattern with two layers of walls, old battlements still perched on the outer layer. The entire place is made of red bricks, dark green roofs, with the Corps' Wings of Freedom banners fluttering against the breeze. At this time of the day, the headquarters is quiet and the soldiers are idly walking about.

Sieglinde stops by the threshold of the supply room and takes her time looking around the place. She notes the entrances and exits, the windows and how many, which ones are barred, which ones has glass that is easy to break, where is the nearest object, to her left or to her right, can she use this chair to defend herself if need be, which one among their current group would be the easiest one to throw to the wolves−

Her calculations are stopped short when the dark-haired thief bumps onto her shoulder. Not strong enough to push her, not weak enough to brush. Just the right amount of force. She growls under her breath and rounds towards him with her first up in the air.

"Is everything all right?" Greta asks, sounding concerned.

"Everything is fine," Sieglinde answers, dropping her fist to her side. Her fingers twitch. She curls her hands into fists and tucks them in the crook of her elbows. "Sunshine here is just stumbling in his balance."

The thief casts her a sidelong glare, before joining his comrades inside the room. At the center, Greta is handing out their uniforms. She holds up a combination of jackets, shirts, and pants for them to try, searching for the best fit. Everyone is lean, which makes her job easier.

"Go change in the other room," Greta suggests to Isabel and Sieglinde. Then she blinks at the men also needing to change. She flushes and lowers her head. "Right! I'll be outside waiting for everyone to finish changing, okay?"

Suddenly, Sieglinde feels a hand around her wrist. Her instincts kick in, and she twists away from the grip, stepping backward, away from the culprit.

As it happens, it is only the young thief. Red hair, green eyes. A beautiful combination.

"It's okay," the thief says, opening her arms into a friendly gesture. Her friends flock behind her, both curious and suspicious of the previous interaction. "I'm Isabel and this is Furlan!" She points at herself, and then to the tall and lean blond. "Say, what's your name?"

Deep blue eyes stare back at Isabel's sunny disposition. Her lips purse, as if contemplating whether to answer the question or not. Her civilian's clothes are rumpled and dried of sweat from her workshop. That kind of silence, they almost believe the woman would not answer.

But she does. And she smiles.

"My name is Sieglinde. It's very nice to meet you, Isabel." Her blue gaze lands on the other thief. He flinches, as if not expecting her attention on him. "Furlan, too."

"Nice to meet you, too!" Isabel laughs and points towards the back of the group. "That quiet one over there is my Bro Levi! Don't mind him. He's grumpy all the time!"

"So, I see." Sieglinde meets Levi's sullen glare. She acknowledges his presence with a slight smile.

"Come on! Let's get changing!" Isabel leads them into the other room.

The two girls are shuffling into their uniforms. Isabel groans and grunts as she pulls the white shirt, buttoning them down to her waist. She curses under her breath because of the tight harness that goes all over the body. She sits down on one of the available crates, tugging at the leather straps too hard, and falls over the back with a loud thud.

Sieglinde winces at the crack of skull against the floor. "Are you okay?"

Isabel moans in pain and caresses the back of her head. "Not really."

"Here. Let me help you." Sieglinde chuckles and sits the younger girl back on the crate. Isabel slumps down with her shoulders dropped. "This harness will help you during your vertical maneuver gear training. You and your friends must have been using improvised harnesses, huh?"

"Guess we are," comes the sulky reply.

"You'll learn how to wear these by yourself, I'm sure," she assures in a softer tone.

"Y-You think?" Isabel looks up at her with a hopeful smile.

Sieglinde finds a nearby brush and takes the initiative of removing Isabel's hair from its ties. She pats the top of Isabel's head and starts brushing through the rough tangles, once or twice needing to hold Isabel back against the force of her pull. The younger girl continues wincing, until the tangles are all gone and she could tie her hair back again in two loose pigtails over her shoulders.

"Ah, that kinda hurt," Isabel sighs, rubbing her head. "You're rough, like Bro Levi. He always brushes my hair because he doesn't like it all fussed up!"

"Levi? The one who doesn't know how to smile, right?"

"That's the one!" Then she stands before a full-length mirror and ogles at the harnesses around her body, all at the right places, and her newly combed hair. "Wow! You really know what you're doing here, Sis!"

"Sis?"

"Yeah! Isn't this what a big sister does?"

"I suppose…" Sieglinde shrugs. "I'm not really sure…"

"I'm not sure either, so let's have some fun!" Isabel turns bright green eyes at her. "How about I brush your hair for you? It looks really long!"

Sieglinde smiles and rubs a lock of her hair between forefinger and thumb. "My brother likes it this way."

Isabel is about to ask something when Furlan knocks on the door.

"Hey-ho, you two!" comes his voice from the other side. "Are you two done yet?!"

"Just a second!" Isabel shouts back.

"Well, hurry it up! We've got people waiting, you know!"

"Right. Geez."

On the other side, Furlan and Levi are already prepared in their Survey Corps uniform. Furlan chuckles awkwardly as he backs away from the door. Sieglinde searches around for anything else, and her eyes land on Levi's unsmiling face. The furrows between his brows are creasing downward with every passing second that the two girls are not yet ready.

When Isabel finally steps out, Furlan sighs. "I never knew waiting for girls could be _this_ long."

"Ha? What're you saying? We were in there for, like, ten minutes!" Isabel argues back.

"Exactly! It took a long time!" Furlan insists.

"Is everything all right here?" Greta stands by the doorway. She nods to everyone's appearances and gestures for them to follow her again. The recruits file after her. "The quadrangle is at the center of the headquarters," she explains to them. "It is where we usually receive announcements from Commander Keith Shadis."

"Oh, so this Erwin guy isn't Commander?" Furlan wonders.

"Not at all," says Greta. "He's our Squad Leader, and Mike is Team Leader. When you guys are assigned to your own squad, you will understand how the rankings work."

"Where do the Squad Leaders stay?" Sieglinde asks.

"If you're referring to their quarters, it's across the quadrangle, on the northern side." Greta points to the direction. The supply room opens to the quadrangle, a large green square at the center of the compound. As per her explanation, across from it stands a massive building of red bricks and limestones. The private quarters of the Commander and his Squad Leaders and ranking officers.

When the recruit breaks from the group, Greta gasps and tugs at her sleeve. "Where are you going?"

"I am planning to see Erwin Smith," Sieglinde says.

"But the introductions will be up soon!"

"I'll join you there," Sieglinde reassures the soldier.

She removes Greta's grip on her sleeve and jogs across the green field, passing by more soldiers who would care less of her running around in the middle of the afternoon. She stands before the building and realizes that she has never seen anything as extravagant as this. The building is just another part of this old, abandoned castle.

She bumps onto one of the older soldiers. He immediately feels the need to glare down on the younger one to show his authority.

The man points his index finger at her face. "Full name and squad, kid."

"I don't have a squad yet."

"Is that the proper way to speak to your superior, huh, you Titan fodder?" He jabs his pudgy finger on her chest. Jabbing and jabbing while lecturing something about respect, and honor, and dignity−

Sieglinde puts on a strained smile and reaches out for that finger that keeps jabbing at her.

"Whoa." A familiar voice interrupts her plan and the soldier's lectures. Mike Zacharias walks down the road and nods in acknowledgement to the other soldier. "No need to worry here, Clemens."

"But, Mike, this girl−"

"I _will_ handle this," Mike cuts him off, leaning his arm over Sieglinde's head.

Clemens growls and moves out of the way. Once he is gone, Mike flicks Sieglinde on the forehead. She hisses at him and swats his hand away from her. The Team Leader chuckles and leads her into the private quarters of the officers.

"Going to see Erwin?" he asks.

"Yes. Can you show me the way?"

He raises his eyebrow at her.

"Can you show me the way _please_?"

"Alright, already." He puts his hands in his pocket. "But first, promise me you won't break someone's fingers just because they were nagging at you. Can't afford to have a bad record on your first day in the Survey Corps now. Another bad record and they might send you to the Garrison next."

"He came this close." Sieglinde bristles, indicating an inch using her fingers. "This _close_ to losing that finger."

"As I've said, don't," Mike advices. "Do that to the Titans on our next expedition."

The Team Leader leaves her standing in front of Erwin Smith's private quarters. He waves a hand before disappearing in a corner. Heaving a sigh, Sieglinde knocks on the door, but doesn't wait for Erwin's voice. She opens the door and peeks inside.

The room is spacious and neat, decorated with bookshelves and lush purple carpets. A great wooden table sits at the very center, with a large glass window directly behind it. The late afternoon sun shines from the window, throwing long shadows across the carpets. There is a couch to the left, some potted flowers, and then a second door to the right, probably leading to the bedroom.

And there, seated on the desk with mountains of paperwork, is Erwin Smith himself.

The man glances up from his documents. "Cadet."

"Squad Leader Tall, Hot and Handsome."

Erwin makes a face. "Don't call me that during work hours."

She bites back a smile and feigns a frown instead. "Whatever, Squad Leader _Ewvy_."

"You're no longer five years old. Is there anything that I can do for you, _Cadet_?"

She snorts, and Erwin hides his smile behind his paper. "I need your help."

"Oh?" He scribbles something on the paper, puts it to his left, and grabs another from his right. He waits until she is standing in front of his desk, looking down on her nose at him. He retains the same cold, uninterested tone in his voice. "Since when did you need help in anything, Signe?"

"Don't use that tone on me just because you're Squad Leader now."

"What tone? I have always used this tone."

"No, you don't. You didn't use it before you enlisted for military training."

She couldn't help but lace resentment in her voice. How many years? At least six years since they had a proper meeting. He is the same tall man with a strong, powerful build, the same blond hair and blue eyes. And her? The last time he saw her, she must have been only a little girl, with frizzy hair and scrawny build to contrast his battle-hardened appearance. But he was not a soldier yet. Six years ago, Erwin was not a soldier and Sieglinde was not… this… whatever she turned out to be in his absence.

Erwin must be sharing the sentiment, but he quickly recovers. He chuckles at the absurdity of all these and proceeds to the couch. He pats the space in front of him, and Sieglinde complies, sitting cross-legged with her back turned to him. He strokes her hair for a few times, then starts braiding the thick silver locks, the way his mother taught him so many years ago.

Sieglinde sighs like a contented cat at his attention. All the years of growing her hair this long so that Erwin could braid it for her. His large hands may be used to holding swords and flares, but he is as skilled as fighting as he is with braiding.

"Have you had the chance to mingle with the other recruits?" he asks.

"A bit," she mumbles.

"What do you think?"

"One is friendly, the other level-headed, and the last one scary."

"Scary?" He sounds amused, tucking strands behind her ear. "How so?"

"He saw through me," she answers begrudgingly.

Erwin pauses for a moment.

"You mean when you are doing your usual scouting?" He braids down to the base of her head, and then twists extra locks to make a thick ponytail. He uses a white rubber band to hold everything together. "I told you he is sharp. Don't try pushing your luck with him." He takes her by the chin and brushes off shorter strands from her forehead. "And don't start a fistfight with him."

"Me? Fistfight?" She sticks her tongue out. "Hardly."

"And here I am almost convinced." He reaches to the blooming flowers beside the couch. He picks three cornflowers and pins them on the top of her ponytail, trailing the long end over her left shoulder. "There."

"Thank you." She turns around and tilts her head to the side. "Why did you recruit those three if you are so apprehensive towards them? And don't tell me because they have the skills."

"It's because they have the skills." Erwin returns to his desk again, clearing up the mess of his paperwork.

He opens the door to his office and offers a hand to her. They walk in silence as the other soldiers are lining up in front of a raised platform. Sieglinde notes the three other recruits, whispers something to Erwin's ear. The soldier nods before pushing her towards them by the small of her back. His ice-blue eyes do not leave her figure until he falls in line with his squad members, Mike and Greta standing in attention behind him.

Commander Keith Shadis is a middle-aged man with wild black hair and eyes. His wrinkles are prominent, and they sink deeper as he scowls to the soldiers. He meets everyone's stare and stomps his foot.

"You four! Recruits! Front and center!"

They shuffle up to the platform.

"From now on, these four would be our comrades, fighting alongside us against the Titans," the Commander declares in his booming voice. Some of his subordinates appear concerned with the sudden announcement. He takes it in stride. "Now, recruits, introduce yourselves!"

"I'm Isabel Magnolia! Nice to meet everybody!"

"Furlan Church, at your service."

"Levi."

An awkward silence stretches between him and the audience. Levi keeps his face devoid of any emotion.

"I am Sieglinde," says the young woman beside him, hoping to recover from the awkwardness. "A pleasure."

There is a murmur of interest among the soldiers. Erwin presses his lips into a thin line, but says no more.

Keith Shadis steps forward again. "These four will be assigned to Flagon's squad. Watch over them, Flagon! Train them well. I expect them to be ready for the next expedition!"

Erwin's eyes widen slightly as he meets Sieglinde's own, mirroring his shock.

"M-My squad?!" sputters the Squad Leader next to Erwin. Flagon blanches and hopes to argue his case. "I had thought they'd be assigned to Erwin's squad instead. They are his recruits after all."

"He is already assigned to supervise the new scouting formation," Keith explains. "These recruits are under your guidance from now on." His dark eyes slide to Erwin, as if daring the younger soldier to beg his pardon and maybe try to persuade him to assign one of the girls to his squad. Much to his disappointment, Erwin Smith does nothing but stare ahead.

"That will be all," Keith finishes and walks down the platform. He beckons Flagon. "Show them the military barracks. Have them prepared for supper. Tomorrow, their training begins."

"Yes, sir!" Flagon salutes to his Commander, but then deflates at the prospect of babysitting delinquents.

The group waits for him, giving him an expectant look as if he is a dog and they are watchers waiting for him to do tricks. He sighs in defeat and mumbles a "Follow me". From the quadrangle, he leads them towards north, to the large building only to the east of the private headquarters.

While walking, Isabel is regaling the group of that one time when Furlan hit his face on the wall back in their days in the Underground, and the distressed subject of their topic hushes Isabel with a hand over her mouth. Furlan begs for Sieglinde not to listen to any other stories. She smiles and puts the information somewhere in the back of her head. It might be important later on. Then she glances to the back, and Levi, watching from the sidelines, crosses his arms and frowns.

Somewhere to their left, the sun is setting.

"This is the military barracks." Flagon opens the door to reveal a spacious room with several bunk beds lined up on either side of the place.

Sieglinde enters after him, looking around the room and wrinkling her nose. It is littered with paper, booze bottles, and wrappers from candies. Overall disheveled−as expected from the male cadets. Even though her workshop is nowhere near spotless, at least she doesn't leave unnecessary items lying around. She sighs, scrutinizes the beds, and counts the windows. They are on the third floor; if any emergency arises, jumping off the windows would be a dangerous−not to mention painful−stunt.

She barely listens to their Squad Leader's explanations, until he mentions something about keeping the place clean because the three recruits came from a trash heap in the Underground.

The thief leader− _what's-his-name-again_ −snaps at Flagon because of his last comment.

"What?" He stomps towards Flagon. "What did you just say?"

"H-Hey! What's with that look? Don't take that tone with your superior, you−"

Sieglinde pushes Flagon back a little and comes face-to-face with Levi's murderous glare.

The two stare each other down in a heated, challenging stare, not one daring to break eye contact. Sieglinde has been putting up with incessant troubles throughout the entire day. From the MPs, to that Clemens, and now this criminal. And he has been glaring at her the entire day, too. If she had her way, she would have started a fight long before they even reached the headquarters.

"A-A-Anyway!" Furlan throws himself between the two. "Sorry about this, Mister Squad Leader, sir! We'll keep this place sparkling clean!" He does the salute, a fist against the heart, and smiles.

"Whatever," Flagon barks back. "You men start unpacking and prepare for dinner at the mess hall. It's near the female dormitory, so the two ladies will follow me to your room assignment."

"But I wanna stay here!" Isabel calls out after him.

"No complaints!" Flagon frowns at his new subordinates, Sieglinde trailing behind him like a shadow.

Off they go out of the male dormitory, crossing the wide quadrangle again to reach the female dormitory near the western gate. The building is relatively smaller, nearer to the mess hall and food storage. Sieglinde admires the sunset in this part of the Walls, since the territory of the Training Corps is always about beige fields and mountains. Here, in Wall Rose, the ambiance is fresher. The red bricks of the castle, blending with the reddening sunset, make the compound as if bathed in fresh blood.

Flagon glances at her over his shoulder. His other subordinates never bothered following him. He clears his throat. "So, you see, I know your deal with Erwin."

Her blue eyes flit from the sunset skies to his face.

"Just because of Erwin, don't expect me to give you any special treatment," he warns her. "I won't babysit you throughout training, especially on the expeditions. You should be responsible for yourself."

"Of course," she mumbles, and then returns to looking up at the skies.

"Dinner's at seven." He climbs the winding staircase and keeps one eye on her. Like the other room, his subordinates' room assignment is on the third floor. He opens the door for her, but remains standing outside, as if not wanting to enter. "Training will start early tomorrow morning. You'll meet with the other members of the squad when you get there."

"Alright. Thank you."

Flagon huffs and leaves her.

She puts down the sack that she brought all the way from the Training Corps. The metal pieces inside clink against the wooden floorboards of the room. It is small, nowhere near as large as Erwin's. Unlike in the male dormitory with its several beds in one room, here there is only one bunk bed, a dresser, desk, and a window that opens for a river view outside. She drums her fingers on the window's panel and calculates the distance from this window to the ground.

Three stories high, but the grass could soften the fall. If it comes down to it, anyone could escape through the small western gate and follow the river's course.

Escape route−check.

Next, she approaches the dresser and throws it open. Just a few hangers and clips. The drawers at the bottom provide a clean change of sheets and blankets. Then, the desk with its polished surface and small drawers. Just a small notepad and a pen. Anyone could use that pen to stab someone.

Surroundings−check.

She sits on the bed and feels for the mattress. Dragging her heavy sack across the floor, she rummages through the many unfinished works she brought with her. The gauntlets still need revising and the blades more polishing, until Mike himself could try it out. She pulls out a few more knives and kneels on the floor.

Peeking beneath the bunk bed, she lodges a knife between the gaps. Another knife hidden behind the post of the bed. A third one under her pillow. A fourth in the planks of the bunk, assuming Isabel would choose the top bed. The rest of the sack she shoves under the bed.

Weapons−check.

There. Finished.

She looks out on the horizon once more. At least one hour before dinner. She could use some rest.

***

Dinner is a mixed affair. It happens in a blur of brown jackets, soldiers in their harnesses and thigh-high black boots, lining at the counter for their meals. Sieglinde spots Flagon dining with whom she assumes as the members of his squad. There, in a darker corner, is Isabel's group of three. The girl beams and waves her over to them, but one glance at Levi's unfriendly face sends Sieglinde joining Erwin and Mike's table instead.

They talk of nothing but Erwin's supposed new scouting formation, and which squads are assigned to where. Sieglinde occupies herself with the dinner of chicken broth soup, bread and cheese, and some biscuits. One of the usual easy recipes served in the Training Corps, too.

After dinner, Sieglinde leaves the soldiers to their conversations and returns to the dormitory. She lights an oil lamp and leaves it burning at the desk, its light enough to illuminate the entire room. She removes her uniform and changes into a more comfortable nightgown, and flops on the bed.

Isabel comes bursting through the door. "Ah, Sieg! You're already here!"

"I was here since the introductions ended," Sieglinde answers, watching the younger girl gasp and ogle at the cleanliness of their room as opposed to the male dormitory. "Will you be sleeping at the top?"

"Yes, please!" Isabel grins and climbs the ladder. "I hope you don't mind!"

"Not at all. I prefer the lower bunk myself." Easier to escape if need be.

"Ahh! This bed is the softest I've had my whole life! Say, Sieg! How long have you been in the military?"

"About six years."

"Eh? Really?" Isabel's head appears upside-down from the top bunk. "Then how old were you then?"

"I was thirteen." Sieglinde smiles at the fond memory of Military Police dragging her from their home because they wanted her to be in the military. A new sort of entertainment from a young girl to amuse old men. Her mother had begged and raged, then punched an officer in the chin. Still, Sieglinde never so much as resisted and went along with them. _Ah, fun times._

"That sounds too young," Isabel comments. "I was only thirteen two years ago. Back then, it was when I first met Furlan and Bro Levi!"

"Levi?" Sieglinde settles against the pillows and smiles up at Isabel. "Is he your brother?"

"Nope! I just call him that. We met when stupid money-hoggers from the Underground chased me. I just wanted to free a bird that got stuck underground."

"So where is the problem?"

"Taking the staircase above-ground costs a lot of money! Like, a _lot_ of money!" Isabel makes a face. In her upside-down angle, her face is funnier, making Sieglinde chuckle. Isabel grins as well. "Anyway, why did you join the military? Do you want to see the Titans that bad?"

"Oh, no, it wasn't the Titans." Sieglinde plays with the ponytail of her hair. She casts her eyes down and stares at the blanket. "Joining the Survey Corps was important to someone very important to me," she murmurs. "I don't understand why, so I enlisted for training to see what I am missing."

"Who joined the Survey Corps?"

She smiles a little. "My brother."

Isabel blinks, then laughs aloud. "Big brothers are so troublesome, aren't they? I bet yours bullies you and calls you an idiot all the time, huh?"

"Not my brother," Sieglinde says. "Mine is kind and gentle, but he does tease from time to time."

"Aww, that's unfair!" Isabel pouts, tears brimming at the corners of her eyes. "Bro Levi always calls me an idiot and that I'm stupid! It's unfair that your brother doesn't bully you!"

"Oh, Isabel." Sieglinde chuckles and pinches the younger girl's cheeks. "I'm sure that's how he shows his affections. Don't worry. I bet your brother loves you very much, even if he's not really your brother."

***

No more than an hour later, Isabel finally grows tired of everything that happened today, that she flops down on her bed without changing her clothes or removing her boots. She is out like a light, and Sieglinde savors the quietness in their room. She shifts uncomfortably in the new environment, finding the need to look around for more escape routes, more weapons to hide, that she bangs her head on the desk and grabs the oil lamp. A little walk outside shouldn't hurt.

The night skies are dappled with a dozen silver stars. Out of habit, she counts them off while walking towards the private headquarters. The wind is cold for nearly a summer season, blowing her braid off her shoulder and the strands off her forehead.

Along the way, she passes by a very familiar face.

"Sneaking out?" Surprisingly, Levi is talking to her.

"On my way to assassinate someone."

"In your nightclothes?" He nods to her nightgown, while he himself is still in his uniform.

"Easier to kill a man when he's aroused," she says with a suggestive purr. "Don't you think?"

"Sure." He shrugs, folding his arms. "Tell me if it's successful."

"I wouldn't recommend it for you." She spares him one last smile and enters the quarters.

That was strange. Who would have thought Levi-with-a-permanent-sneer could actually talk like a human being? Huh. Weird. But another worth noting as she climbs up the stairs.

Upon reaching her destination, she knocks on his door. "Erwin?" she whispers. "Are you still awake?"

Like this afternoon, the Squad Leader is still seated on his desk, hunched over the paperwork he still has. This time, his jacket is gone and the first three buttons of his white shirt are open. His blue eyes glance at her once, and then down again as he reads the document in his hands.

"What's the matter, Cadet?" he asks. "It's quite late to be reporting to me. Given that you're a new recruit, I doubt you have something to report. And if you do have, you should be reporting to your Squad Leader Flagon, not to me." Then he scribbles again.

"I can sense the sarcasm all the way from here."

"Yes, I am sure you're sharp enough to sense sarcasm."

"Erwin." She takes a more serious tone.

The man decides to oblige her and puts his reports down. "Yes, Signe?"

She fidgets at the threshold. "I can't sleep in my new room. It's too new and unfamiliar to me. It will take me a few days to get used to it and to my roommate." She fiddles with her fingers. "So can I sleep here? At least I won't be worried if it's you."

He sighs, taking on the stoic mantle once more. "I thought you said you didn't miss me?"

"Never said I did."

"Signe, you are almost nineteen years old now. You have seen worse than this. You can't expect me to adopt you every time you feel afraid, or when you're insecure of unfamiliar surroundings−"

"Please."

Erwin studies her face, but then sighs in defeat. It would be cruel to say no to that face.

"Alright, just for one night."

Her face lights up as Erwin crosses the room and opens the door to the right. A bedroom with a medium-sized bed, two nightstands on both sides, and another window. She sits on the edge of the mattress as Erwin settles himself behind her, deft fingers already working through his meticulous braid and through the tangles. He removes the cornflowers and puts them on the table.

The oil lamp keeps blazing from the nightstand.

Erwin sinks on the right side of the bed as Sieglinde curls up against his left arm. Fetal position, one hand under the pillow. His own hand comes down on her head and pats her to sleep.

In the comfortable silence, her small voice comes.

"Why did you leave so soon, Erwin?"

His hand keeps patting her like a kitten. "There is something I wanted outside the Walls."

She nods, burying her face against the sleeve of his arm.

"Signe−" His fingers twist loosely her silver locks. "If someone tried to kill me, what would you do?"

"What an easy question." She chuckles. His question is not even half as deep as hers is. She turns sleepy, luminous eyes at him. "I'd kill them a thousand times over."

Then she yawns and smooths her cheek on his arm. She slackens against him, before asking again:

"So, _who_ is trying to kill you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, I switched POV from Erwin to Sieg this time around. This is my first time to write in a Third Person (Limited Omniscient) technique−where we would see the events through a certain character's point of view. Some character perspectives might be biased, some are limited to their personal knowledge of a subject. Their thoughts, inner feelings and struggles−everything about a certain character would be explored. More characters will have the spotlight, for sure. To be honest, I've read some books with this kind of narrative, so I have always wanted to try it out for myself. Thank goodness for AO3, letting me experiment with my writing skills.
> 
> We'll be having Levi's POV next, and I am so excited since I _love_ writing Levi's chapters.


	3. I Lost My Fucks in the Underground

**Chapter 03**

****

****

**_Levi I – I Lost My Fucks in the Underground_ **

***

Light.

Such light.

What is this? Where is he?

Levi throws an arm over his sleepy eyes, adjusting them from the sudden light shining from outside the window. Back in the Underground City, he always woke up to the shadows of the backstreets, to the smell of cigar and whiskey and even blood. Someone always dies in the dark alleyways, spilling dark blood under where his window opened. Then he would find himself in their small home with its rickety floorboards and the molds growing on the walls and ceilings.

Disgusting.

Yet now he wakes to another kind of world. Once a farfetched dream, now a reality. With a hefty price, however. Nothing in this world could be achieved through cheap, easy means. It is always the hard road, where someone ends up beaten and left behind to die. He should know. He always trekked that road.

After catching up on some few minutes of sleep, Levi decides it is finally time to get up. He swings his legs off the bed and starts smoothing the covers and mattress, folding his blanket, and fixing his rumpled pillow. He looks around the room and sneers at the amount of trash, dust, and watermarks that is already on the floor, despite him having the place cleaned only yesterday.

Damned idiots and their privileged asses.

"Hey." He knocks on the wooden frame on Furlan's bunk. "Get off your ass and start cleaning up."

"Wha−" Furlan's head pops from under his blanket, his blond hair jutting everywhere. "Is it time yet?"

"Yeah." Levi waits until all the other cadets are yawning and stumbling out of the room. Then he finds himself a fresh change of clothes and a handkerchief, in case things get messy during training. He turns for his friend again and Furlan returns to snoring. He snatches the blanket off him. "Hey! Wake up!"

"Fine, fine, fine." Sleepily, Furlan climbs down the ladder, misses the last step, and slides to the floor with a painted grunt. Levi throws the blanket over his head.

"Good. You're awake." He sniffs, then opens the window. It opens to the narrow road. Across their dormitory are the stables and houses for the wagons. No wonder it smells like shit in here. "Clean around those idiots' beds. Make it spotless in ten minutes."

"But, Levi," Furlan groans, still half-asleep but already reaching out for the nearest broom.

"No buts, or I'll have your butt handed to you."

That wakes Furlan up. "R-Roger that…"

Without Isabel helping them, it takes them more than ten minutes to get around the entire room, but at least the ten-yard-radius around their bunk bed is clean. The rest of the room can wait after breakfast, training, or whatever shit the higher-ups have in store for them.

His mind wonders about Isabel. That idiot is stuck with another idiot. That silver-haired, blue-eyed idiot. What could happen if two idiots are in the same place? Would the stupidity actually be contagious to everyone else? Good thing he and Furlan are on the other side of the headquarters.

At the mess hall, almost every soldier and officers are already eating. Levi looks around the large room in search for Isabel. It shouldn't be too hard to find her. Red hair, green eyes, loud voice. He and Furlan search around for their friend until they both notice someone waving their hand at them.

Levi sighs in relief. So the idiot survived her first night in the Survey Corps and is now eating breakfast. Even though he hated the thought of joining the Corps, he could not deny the welcomed feeling of having good food, eating three times a day, cleaner clothes and even a cleaner environment. If he is feeling a bit more grateful, he might even consider playing nice with Erwin Smith.

He and Furlan approach Isabel's table, but Levi stops short at the sight of the other person with her.

_The silver-haired idiot_. He still hasn't forgotten that she copped a feel out of him just to get to his knife. Or that time she thought of escaping. Or when she went against him to defend their whining Squad Leader.

"Oh!" Furlan beams at them both. To Levi, the tone sounds fake. "Good morning, ladies!"

"Acting so cool all of a sudden," Isabel teases him, grinning cattily. "I know why! You're probably trying to get Sieg's attention, aren't ya?!" She sniggers as Furlan's cheeks flush. She barks out another loud laughter and bangs her hand on the table.

"N-No, I am not," Furlan argues, indignant. Then he scratches his nape and smiles at her. "Sorry about that, Sieg. Wait. Is this all right?" He sits beside Isabel. "Can I call you Sieg?"

"My preferred pronouns are 'Your Majesty'," Sieglinde answers.

Furlan laughs good-naturedly, and then blinks up at Levi. "What are you waiting for? Sit down!"

Levi glares at his friend, knowing that he purposely sat beside Isabel to leave Levi no choice but to sit next to the other idiot. He holds on to his pride and keeps standing, arms crossed over his chest, one foot tapping the stonefloor. He is neither obliged to be friendly nor nice with anyone in the Corps−despite the fact that he did converse with her last night when she was on her way to "assassinate" someone.

Sieglinde stands from the table. "It's all right," she tells Isabel and Furlan. "I'm all finished now. I think I should head over to Squad Leader Flagon for today's activities." She takes her tray and steps over the bench, almost bumping onto Levi.

The last time their shoulders bumped, they almost started a catfight.

Her eyelashes flutter as she looks down, as if embarrassed. Levi could feel vomit gurgling in his stomach at this stupid attempt. Idiots. Ugh.

He waits until she walks away without so much of a fight, and keeps watching until she joins the table reserved for the Squad Leaders. For some godforsaken reason, she is welcomed in their group. Erwin and his second-in-command seem fond with her.

"Aww, Bro Levi!" Isabel whines at him as he takes Sieglinde's previous seat. "You scared her away!"

"Good riddance." He accepts the tray Furlan slides over to him. He takes a sip of his coffee. Not bad.

"She's actually nice, you know!" she keeps arguing. "And she's part of our squad."

"I don't care. Moreover, you shouldn't get too friendly with anyone," he says in a warning tone.

"Yeah, Isabel," Furlan adds under his breath. "Remember what we came here for."

"I know that…" Her voice falters slightly, green eyes cast down on her empty plate.

"Don't tell me you're starting to be charmed by the people here." Furlan chuckles.

Once more, Levi takes a fleeting glance at the front of the mess hall. As far as his initial observations go, there should be more than four Squad Leaders under the Commander, then the Team Leaders, ranking officers, and finally, the lowest are the squad members. There are probably more ranks, but those are not relevant to their mission. His blue-grey eyes narrow at Erwin Smith's back. The tall, stupid blond is unaware, but not the silver-haired idiot.

Her deep blue eyes dart up and find him. Levi sets his jaw and stares back. Glaring, more like, at her from across the hall. Where Erwin Smith senses danger and doesn't react to it, this other one is always the first to react to any signs of danger. Considering her closeness to the blond idiot, she might prove to be troublesome for their mission.

Breakfast finishes after an hour. Flagon gathers his squad members, finding Levi and his team the last.

"Training starts today," says the Squad Leader. "As you can see, Castle Roslin has forest surrounding her in every direction. We will use the forest to train your vertical maneuvering skills. But first things first: here are your fellow squad members. Introduce yourselves!"

_Again?_ Levi fights the urge to roll his eyes as the new people state their names and hometowns. As if he cares about their names. At the very best, he can give them nicknames for easier remembrance.

Arrogant Idiot. Freckled Idiot. Doe-eyed Idiot. And of course−the Silver Idiot.

Flagon keeps ranting about the importance of mastering the 3DMG before the expedition, but any experienced soldier would know that there is no mastering the equipment. Every fight is different. Every location, enemy, and angle is different. Most importantly, every fighting style is different. If the Squad Leader keeps ranting about this nonsense, he'd get his underlings killed for sure.

They pass through a small gate behind the male dormitory, proceed behind the stables, and finally plunge into the forest. There is a second group waiting to hand out the gears for the trainees. Levi takes one gear for his own and equips himself, the blades and gas canisters heavy against his legs.

When he twists his blade into a reverse grip, the Squad Leader is triggered.

"Hey!" Flagon shouts at him. "Those blades weren't made to be held like that."

Not killing people above-ground is such a hassle.

"Do you want to die the moment you step out of the Walls?" Flagon is still complaining, apparently.

"Shut up," Levi snaps, unable to stomach all this yapping. "All I have to do is slice the Titan's nape, right? So let me do it my way and stop pissing your pants, Squad Leader."

"Tch. Punk," Flagon curses, and then gestures to one of his subordinates. "Hey, those two new recruits!" He points at Isabel and Furlan. "Send them to train for the horse-back riding and combat training!"

"Yes, sir." Freckled Idiot salutes and ushers the other two away.

Damn it. The bastard of a Squad Leader is trying to limit Levi's power by sending his friends away. It should be fine. Those two could handle themselves quite well. If only Flagon sends everyone else away so that he could concentrate on this stupid training, that would be nice.

"Uh, Squad Leader?"

Levi pauses from entering the forest to watch the exchange.

Flagon turns his bad temper from Levi to Sieglinde. "What is it now, Cadet?"

"May I be assigned to the combat training?" she asks, raising a hand like a child.

"You don't get to choose which training you can have," he snaps again, a vein popping at his temple. He trudges towards her and looms over her like a dark-faced statue. The woman, it seems, has no intentions of backing down despite his temper. "You still train with the gears, finish the training, before I send you somewhere else. Is that clear, Cadet?"

A small part of Levi hopes she snaps as well and punches him in the throat. To his surprise, and disappointment, the Silver Idiot does nothing, but shrugs and smiles as she wears her 3DMG. With another roll of his eyes, Levi fumbles with his gear's controlling mechanism, shooting himself high above the ground.

He soars through the air, the wind whipping at his cheeks and the scent of the forest assaulting his sense of smell. So different from the Underground. So pure and clean in contrast to the corruption from where he was born and raised. He shoots himself from one tree after another, unable to resist thinking back on the first time he met Isabel and called the deed flying.

Flying. Well, he supposes he is flying now.

Left. Right. Above and under a large branch. He somersaults high above the trees, plunging him to the warmth of the sun and the fresh breeze. The high angle gives him a better view of the entire forest, with the other soldiers training below him.

As he is drinking in the sight, he spots a quick blur of white racing across the forest. He snorts and propels himself down between the clumps of trees again, descending beside the silver-haired idiot. His eyes up ahead, his raven hair fluttering. Then he catches her stealing glances at him.

_What's her name again?_ He wrinkles his nose as he shoots the hook to another tree. The other recruit does the same, propelling herself away from him. _It's S-something. Sarah. Was it Sabrina? Steve?_

Fuck it.

Silver Idiot is easier to remember.

Towards a forest clearing, a wooden cutout of a Titan materializes. Levi tears himself from his musings and dodges the cutout, then shoots his hook to a higher branch. Feet flat on the branch, he twists the blade in his right hand backwards−and dives in for the kill.

The cushioned nape of the Titan slices in half.

Easy.

He soars upwards again, glaring down at the Squad Leader's surprised face. So the idiot has been watching his movement all the time. But he notices that someone is also watching. Somehow, he is not surprised that the Silver Idiot is perched on a branch adjacent to his tree, watching the every movement of his hands, body, and feet. Levi grunts and perches on another tree, meeting her eyes.

Sieglinde tightens her grip around her own blades and shoots to the front. Levi's gaze follows her, somewhat curious what the look in her eyes mean. The other recruit comes upon another Titan cutout and prepares her body for a quick reaction.

To Levi's surprise, she soars underneath the Titan's chin and comes up with her right blade in reverse. His style. As she is bearing down on the Titan's nape, the two blades cut through the cushion and she shoots her hook back to a tree.

He is late to realize that she is coming towards him. He prepares his blade in case she wants a fight.

"Good fighting style," she commends as she passes by his tree, and then lands deftly on the ground.

"Ha?" Levi frowns from his branch, Sieglinde smiling up at him and checking her right blade.

"Oh! I'm sorry! Did I interrupt your brooding?"

With a scoff, he releases his hook's hold on the tree and lands beside the other recruit.

Together, they walk away from the wooden cutouts and ignore the other soldiers begging for them to finish their training. Levi sheathes his two blades while his companion is still fussing over the sliders on the hilt, lightly pressing the pad of her thumb against the blade's sharpness. When she seems to be satisfied, she nods to herself and turns her attention to him.

"That was quite a technique you have there," she says.

"It's not even a technique," he hears himself say.

"Maybe, but it seems efficient for a continuous attack pattern. Besides, the control and strength behind the blade seem better than the usual sword-wielding techniques that we use."

"What are you talking about?" he demands, a bit confused.

She rolls her eyes in mock impatience and takes his right wrist in her hands. He flinches at the sudden physical contact, but his curiosity over what she is blabbering about overwhelms him.

"Here," she says, indicating the length between his wrist and elbow. "By putting your blade in reverse, the strength of your slice will come from your wrist and pushed forward by your elbow, making it stronger."

Like a dutiful student, Levi nods.

Then she gives him her blade and puts it in his right hand. "In our usual way, the sword goes like this, right?" she prompts, and he nods again. "The force from this technique will depend only on the wrist. The joint between hand and wrist allows all sorts of movements, making it versatile, but also a weakness."

"Are you saying that if you are not experienced enough, you will dislocate this joint?" he asks.

"More than that, you might break the bones and it will never heal again. Joints are delicate." She takes her blade from his hand and puts it back in its box. "That's why your reverse technique is better: stronger grip and force, less chances of dislocating joints."

"Tell that to our Squad Leader." He folds his arms over his chest, walking beside her. "He pisses himself all the time with every little thing."

"Because he thinks himself responsible for our lives," she explains. "All he wants is for everyone to live through their first expedition."

They exit the forest. Flagon is tapping his foot on the grass. "You two punks."

Levi darkens his gaze at the Squad Leader.

"Are we done here?" Sieglinde asks, already halfway through removing her gears.

"Yeah. You two will continue your vertical maneuvering practice again tomorrow." Flagon turns on his heels and motions for them to follow him. He is cursing under his breath, leading them to another field enclosed in wooden fences.

***

There are more soldiers here, Furlan included.

"Time for combat training," Flagon tells them, and Levi doesn't miss the quick brightening of the Silver Idiot's face. "I can see you're excited, Cadet Smith. This isn't playtime, you know."

"Yes, Squad Leader," she answers.

"Punk!" Flagon barks at Levi's direction. "You wanna try a round?"

"Hmph." Levi looks to the other direction and ignores the incessant complaints.

"I'll have a go," someone else says.

A young man with black hair and bangs that are brushed to the left side. His gray eyes are bright with challenge. Levi recognizes him as the Arrogant Idiot. "I want to try Sieglinde," he tells Flagon.

Actually relieved that he doesn't have to be humiliated for the second time around, Flagon nods and jerks his head to Sieglinde−who is more than happy to comply and leaves Levi on the spot. The two meet inside the fence, the other soldiers stopping from their lousy training to watch them.

Furlan tiptoes from behind the group and stops beside Levi. "What's up?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "Nothing much. You?"

"Same. This combat training sucks," Furlan mumbles. "We're supposed to defend ourselves from someone else with a wooden knife. No one really takes it seriously. I take the Training Corps was the same."

"Not her, though." Levi juts his chin to where Sieglinde takes her stance against the Arrogant Idiot.

"Ah, you wouldn't believe the rumors I heard about her," Furlan whispers in his ear.

"Don't tell me then," Levi whispers back, uninterested.

Inside the fence, the two contenders are preparing to face off against each other. Arrogant Idiot−whose name Furlan says is to be Sairam−has the wooden knife gripped between two hands. He bends his knees low, his hands tucked to his right-hand side. On the other side, Sieglinde also bends her knees, fists up and elbows in, with her right heel raised. Levi studies her stance. He nods in quiet approval while Sairam charges forward screaming like a pig for a butcher.

Sieglinde braces herself for the attack and meets Sairam halfway, one of her hands slamming onto Sairam's raised fists to redirect his attack. Then she sidesteps the boy, moving in a circle, rounding towards his back−and his blind spot. She rams a fist relentlessly where his shoulder meets neck. Sairam yells in pain and collapses on the ground.

Levi raises his eyebrow. Furlan whistles.

"They say she was in the Training Corps for six years," the blond whispers.

"What, she's too stupid that she took twice longer than a regular soldier?" Levi grumbles.

"On the contrary, she trained for three years, then was promoted to combat instructor," Furlan confides, nodding to where Sieglinde is tending to Sairam's prone figure. "I was told she invented some sort of new martial art and the higher-ups gave her permission to teach them to the other trainees."

Back at the field, Flagon is shouting for a medic.

"So what is she doing here?" Levi asks again.

"It's a funny thing, actually." Furlan chuckles, one hand to his mouth. "She was teaching them defensive measures but got carried away. Gave her students real knives to work with. Three injured, then an honorable discharge from the Training Corps. Now she's back doing her thing in the Survey Corps."

"Great. She majored in combat and minored in, what, being annoying?"

"Church! You're next!" Flagon snaps his fingers at Furlan.

"M-Me?" Furlan points at himself, but then trudges into the arena with the rogue combat instructor waiting for him. He glances at Levi, who keeps quiet to himself and seems to be more satisfied with watching and observing. Sighing, Furlan receives the wooden dagger and assumes his stance.

"Is this okay?" Sieglinde asks their Squad Leader, with a hint of amusement in her voice.

"I can see you're having fun," Flagon answers. "Why don't you show these Underground punks how it's done above ground? Maybe then they'll learn their lesson?"

Levi's eyebrow twitches at Flagon's condescending tone.

Nodding, Sieglinde turns back to Furlan and assumes her previous stance. Levi walks around the fence, getting behind her, to get a better view of her movements. Her stance is the most normally used by anyone, but there is something in her offense that Levi wants to learn. If she looks as skilled as she shows others, then this might be interesting at the very least.

Furlan twirls the knife between his fingers. Also born and raised in the Underground, knives are the first and most common weapons around. He smirks at his opponent and settles his knife in his left hand, and then lunges forward, knife held up in the air.

Sieglinde narrows her eyes at his choice of hand, and runs forward to meet his attack. One hand blocks Furlan's fist, throwing his fist's balance away. Furlan glowers down on her and raises his knee to kick her in the stomach. Her free hand pushes down at his knee, redirecting it to another direction. Her right hand wraps around his left wrist, her left hand on pushing down at his knee, and her head suddenly comes up to headbutt him right in the nose.

Levi almost winces at the cracking noise as Furlan groans and falls on his ass.

"M-Medic!" Flagon shouts again, teeth gritted at Sieglinde. "That lesson was too far!"

"I hope I hadn't shattered a nose." Sieglinde crouches beside Furlan. "Are you okay?"

"Ob, no," comes Furlan's gurgled response through his bleeding nose.

"Ah, I must have hit too hard. I'm sorry." She offers her hand as apology.

He looks at her as if she is deranged, then snickers, blood dripping to his chest. "It'sb okay. I'md bfine."

Flagon towers over them, hands on his hips, like an exasperated father. "All right, no more!"

"Wait."

Sieglinde and Furlan peek from behind Flagon's legs. Levi is strutting into the field, removing his brown jacket and loosening his white cravat. He folds his jacket and places it over the fence. He holds Sieglinde's blue gaze as he also works on rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. He rakes his fingers through his raven hair and approaches them.

From her position on the ground, crouching, she looks small and vulnerable.

"I want a round," Levi says.

"Ack." Furlan cringes. "Are you pfsure, Libai?"

"Your blood is all over you," Levi scolds, throwing Furlan a handkerchief. "Get it treated."

"Aye, sir. Ugh." Furlan stands and limps back to the sidelines.

"Here to avenge your fallen comrade?" Sieglinde asks with a soft laugh.

"No, the idiot saw it coming from miles away." Levi cracks his knuckles and catches the knife Flagon throws at him. He feels the weight of the wood against his palm, the smooth surface, and the blunt edge. It won't be enough to cause a life-threatening damage. Pity.

He glares at the young woman and reserves his grip, the knife now pointed backwards. He notices the amused gleam in her eyes.

He charges, putting the weight of his body on the balls of his feet, the reversed blade ready to slash. He keeps her previous lessons in his mind−reverse grip means more force and control. He slashes it from down to upwards, aiming for her chin. She has no time to catch his fist the way she did with the other two competitors, and backs away instead, placing more distance between them.

Levi gives chase and presses on, switching the knife to his other hand and repeating his slashing attack. This time, Sieglinde answers accordingly and pushes his hand away from her face, then sidestepping away into another semi-circle. She comes back to him just as he is chasing her, striking him in the face with the heels of her palms. Levi grunts at her relentless attacks, giving him no time to recover from the assault or even breathe through the nose.

Irritated now, Levi grabs the hand that keeps striking him and bends it backwards forcefully, earning a sharp hiss through her teeth. Music to his ears when his enemies are in pain. He bends low and delivers a back kick to the stomach. He hears the other soldiers gasp and wince as Sieglinde holds on to his pants and forces him to the ground with her.

Lying side by side on the dust, she punches him twice on the chin. He growls and grabs both her fists, pinning them in one hand. Then Sieglinde suddenly rears above him, straddling him by the chest with her right knee pressed against the hollow base of his throat. The audience are hooting and chuckling. He could feel her entire weight bearing down on him, keeping him in place, choking him.

But not for long.

His right hand snatches her from underneath, strong fingers gripping the flesh of her inner thigh. With his strength, he parts her legs and pushes her off him. Caught off-guard, she yelps and pitches downward, hitting her back on the field with Levi now pressing the wooden knife against her throat.

He is panting, a thin sheet of sweat across his forehead. Glaring down on her, he finds her also panting, lips slightly open for quick and shallow breaths. Her chest rises and falls, and he could feel the pressure against his thighs. Despite his darkened face, she beams at him, chuckling a little.

Something sharp and pointed presses against his side.

Levi's gaze slides down, widening a little to see a knife−a real knife−pointed at him. How did it get there? More importantly, since when did she have the opportunity to retrieve a hidden blade and use it? Between the quick exchanges and the adrenaline rush, he could not tell.

They stare at each other after what seems forever, until Squad Leader Flagon calls out from the sidelines.

"That's enough, you two!"

"Yes, sir!" Sieglinde calls back in a cheerful tone, but grabs at Levi's arm as he is removing himself from top of her. Her grip on him is strong and somewhat forceful.

Levi bares his teeth at her. "What now?"

"Grumpy." She laughs. "Don't move yet. Let me hide the blade first, idiot."

"How dare you call me−"

"There." She pats her left boot and slides her palms over his sweaty arms. "Now, you can move."

"Idiot," he murmurs under his breath and finally gets off. He slumps on the ground and heaves a tired sigh.

"Hey!" Flagon claps his hands. "Good enough show, but we're not done yet!"

"What?" Levi rasps.

"You've got horseback riding next." Flagon and his squad members return to the direction of the stables.

Sieglinde pats herself off the dust and runs after the group. Levi retrieves his brown jacket and fixes his cravat again. Furlan, holding his nose and dabbing it with a handkerchief, falls in pace with him.

"That vas pretty intensh between you thwo," Furlan mumbles from behind the cloth.

Levi shoots him a quick glare, and then: "Don't give me that bullshit."

***

Behind the male dormitory is the long and spacious barn for the horses. When Squad Flagon arrives, there are other squads fetching their horses and racing each other outside. According to a team member, horseback riding exercises happen outside Castle Roslin. The riders would have to pass through the eastern gate to get to the grassy fields outside.

Another one from their squad appears. The Doe-eyed Idiot, as Levi nicknamed her.

Light brown hair tied in two loose pigtails over her shoulders. Pretty doe eyes, bright hazel. The soldier is short and petite, and she is tasked into helping everyone settle to their horses.

"Hello," she greets Levi and Furlan with a soft voice. "Squad Leader told me to assign you horses."

"Yesh, plesh," Furlan chirps at her. Levi groans at the stupidity.

"What are your names?" Doe-eyed Idiot asks.

"I'm Furlahn! And thish ish Libai!" He nudges his elbow at Levi's side, winking suggestively.

She laughs as she ushers a large chestnut horse. "My name's Natalia. Nice to meet you both." She pats the horse on its muzzle and gives the reins to Furlan. "This one's Garnet. Take care of her, okay?"

Furlan nods and excitedly takes his horse outside the stables. Levi lets him go and enters further into the barn, no matter how shitty it smells in here. As far as he could see, there are only two more horses available: a large black on his left, and a white one in the far right corner. The white one thrashes around its pen restlessly, while the black is quiet and tamed.

Natalia smiles at him. "Well, which one do you like? Would you like to have this one?" She approaches the black horse, holds out her hand for it, and the creature steps forward to meet her touch. "Would you like to touch her? She's very gentle."

Reluctantly, Levi places his palm in the air. The horse takes another step forward to rub its muzzle against his palm. His heart flutters. He has never been one for animals−that has always been Isabel−and this must be the first time he has ever touched a horse. He moves closer until he is patting its muzzle with both hands, going up and down, up and down, as gently as his hands allow.

"Her previous owner died in the last expedition," Natalia says. "She was trained to come back whenever called. She and her owner were lost in the forest. Two days later, when we were returning to the Walls, she came back and found us on her own."

"Oh." He doesn't know what to make out of that.

"No one has ever tried her since then. It's a shame. She's a gentle creature."

"What's her name?"

"Layla."

"Hm. Layla." The horse whinnies and licks at his fingers. In any normal circumstances, he might have been disgusted. He will let this one pass. "Nice name. It's easy to remember. And it sounds like mine. Levi."

"Oh! There you are!" Natalia turns to the newcomer. "Sieglinde, you're late!"

"Sorry, I was trying to find a workshop−Oh, hello, Libai." Sieglinde laughs.

"What the hell, idiot?"

"Furlan keeps calling you that with his broken nose and I thought it sounds funny." She follows Natalia towards the dark corner of the stable.

Levi huffs and releases Layla from her pen, and starts putting reins and saddle on her. The horse wags her tail, a fluffy black tail, as he finishes with the final touches. His first time to saddle a horse, and it looks quite all right to him. On the other side of the room, the two women are struggling with the bad-tempered white horse. He rubs Layla on the muzzle and leads her outside.

He settles onto the back, and observes the surrounding area. It feels good to be this high above the ground. His fingers keep combing through the horse's silken mane, surprised how well-groomed she is despite not having an owner for a long time. Whichever good Samaritan did this, they have Levi's gratitude.

Sieglinde emerges from the stable, also mounted on the white horse. It shakes its head and snorts. She grunts a little and grabs at the reins. From his peripheral vision, it's nice for Levi to see the Silver Idiot having a hard time controlling her horse.

Natalia whistles and a bay horse answers her call. She swings to her saddle. "Let's go outside!"

The three of them ride across the field and exit through the eastern gate. Outside the territory of their headquarters, the land is vast and green, with a hill rising towards the bright blue skies. Levi drinks in the view for a few moments, and then notices Isabel with her gray horse. The girl is having the best time of her life, hugging her horse around the neck and pressing kisses on its mane.

"Ah! Bro Levi! There you are!" Isabel waves him over.

"Yeah. Here I am," he answers drily.

"Furlan told me you and he fought with Sieg! His nose looks so funny!"

"He was an idiot for being too reckless."

"Wow! Your horse is so pretty! Can I touch?" But she is already petting Layla on her black mane. Her green eyes sparkle with childish wonder. "She's so good, but my Thunder here is the best!"

"That's his name?" Levi wrinkles his nose. "Tch. Lame."

"Wha−!" Isabel puts both hands on her hips. "What about your horse's name, huh? I bet you named her after the pretty girl working in the tavern back home," she teases him, grinning from ear-to-ear. "Or that girl from Walter's gang! Or what about that pretty girl that Furlan has a crush on−"

"Enough," Levi says with a groan. "Why would I name my horse after random girls? Besides, she already has a name. It's Layla, idiot, now stop looking all dreamy-eyed and shit."

"Hmph. Fine." She sticks her tongue out at him. Then her face brightens at someone behind Levi. "Ah, Sieg, there you are, too! What took you so long?" She clicks her heels on Thunder's sides and the gray horse thunders−Levi makes a face at the pun−to where Sieglinde is struggling with her horse.

The silver-haired idiot has her full attention on the bad-tempered horse, her grip too tight around the reins that her knuckles her turning white. For someone constantly observant and alert to her surroundings, Levi notices that she is now fully occupied with controlling her uncontrollable horse.

Isabel blinks at the other girl. "Are you okay?"

"J-Just a sec−whoa!" Sieglinde gasps as her horse whinnies and pounds its massive hooves to the dirt, throwing earth and bits of grass everywhere. She grits her teeth in concentration, but the horse shakes its head as if to remove her hold on its reins.

"Don't move too much!" Isabel cautions. "We're on top of the hill! If you move too much−"

"I'm trying, I'm trying!" Sieglinde cries out. Levi blinks at the hint of terror in her voice.

"Calm down," Isabel giggles. "Animals can sense fear, you know."

"S-Sure." Sieglinde bites her lower lip as her white horse seemingly calms down. Her shoulders drop to relax, but then her horse starts moving on its own and approaches Levi. The colors rise in her pale cheeks, and she desperately tugs at the reins again. "Wait, where are you going? Cinnamon!"

Levi fixes her a bland, unamused stare. "You named your horse _Cinnamon_?"

She rolls her eyes. "Look, Mister Sunshine, I didn't name him."

The white horse trots back to Levi again and Sieglinde pulls him backwards. The horse neighs in protest and rears all of a sudden. His rider is caught off-guard and loses her grip on the reins.

Levi and Isabel flinch as Sieglinde shrieks and falls off the horse. She hits her face on the grassy floor and stumbles down the hill like a sack of potatoes.

While Levi feels like smiling, Isabel gasps and rides down to tend to her.

Other members of Squad Flagon arrive as well. Natalia and Sairam cross the green fields. Furlan appears out of nowhere with Levi's handkerchief still pressed to his broken nose. Sighing, Levi gently snaps at Layla's reins to join the others.

Isabel jumps off her horse and skids to a halt next to Sieglinde. "Oh, no! You all right, Sieg?!"

"Someone get water! Quick!" Natalia yells at Sairam, then checks at the other's face. "Oh, man, I will really get into trouble with Squad Leader Erwin if he finds out!"

"Erwin?" Levi blinks at Furlan in complete confusion.

"Let me see, Sieg!" Isabel kneels before Sieglinde and brushes her hair out of her eyes.

"It's bleeding!" Natalia gasps. "Does anyone have a handkerchief?!"

"I have one." Furlan holds up the bloodstained handkerchief from before.

"Ew, Furlan, that's disgusting!" Isabel scolds him.

Wondering what the fuss is all about, Levi slides off his horse's back and stands behind Isabel and Natalia.

The first thing he sees is red. Just red−everywhere.

Over her forehead, dripping from her temple to the curve of her left jaw, then trickling into a droplet to the grass. Some strands from her braid went stray from the impact, now cascading over her face and tickling her dust-covered cheeks. Even the tips of her hair are red, and Natalia is pushing the hair out of Sieglinde's face to get a better view of the injury.

A gash bleeds on her left temple, possibly from a rock. After all that rolling on the grass and soil, it would be infected sooner or later.

Sairam returns with a bucket of water from the river. "Natalia, here!"

"Thank you!" The doe-eyed soldier's hands are shaking. "Just relax, okay, Sieg?"

"No problem…" Sieglinde says through gritted teeth, holding back a pained wince.

"Don't worry! We'll save you, Sieg! Don't die on us!" Isabel pleads, her lips pulled down into a frown.

"I won't die, Isabel," Sieglinde assures the younger girl.

"Are you sure? Because I've seen a lot of people die of blood loss from the Underground!"

Levi scowls and steps in-between the two female soldiers. They give him questioning looks, and he stares back at them with one of his default sneers. Natalia backs away whilst Isabel stays put, watching him kneel on the ground beside her and reaching out for Sieglinde's face.

His lips twitch at the amount of blood. One hand on his cravat, he tugs at it until it loosens and drops to his hand.

Keeping their eyes locked, he dips the fabric into the cool water and wrings the excess out. Sieglinde flinches and tries to move away.

"Don't run," he snarls. "You'll make more mess."

"But−"

"Shut up." The cloth touches her bleeding temple, and her left eye closes at the cold pain.

"Bro Levi will take care of you!" Isabel promises.

"No, I won't."

"But Bro!"

"There." Levi cleans up the rest of her face and tosses his filthy cravat into the bucket. Now his hands are a combination of sweat, dust, horsehair, and blood. First day in the Survey Corps, already too unsanitary. He needs to go back to the dormitory for a long-awaited shower. He looks down on his nose at the silver-haired idiot and says, "You have a day to wash my cravat and give it back to me."

He climbs on Layla again and rides back to the headquarters, ignoring Isabel's protest of his meanness or Furlan's mumbling noises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Levi's chapter is here! I am not sure how you guys will receive his portrayal here, but do keep in mind that this is pre-"Captain Levi" and he doesn't care much about others yet. Well, I'll leave the rest of the judgement to you, kind readers!

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Notes: Hello, everyone! Welcome to my first ever Attack on Titan story! Several chapters have already been published in my FF.net account, and I'm just publishing it here to share it with more people!
> 
> This is a slowburn Levi/OC fic, featuring our beloved Survey Corps soldiers−Erwin, Hange, Mike. Will mostly feature Survey Corps dynamics and personal relationships of the characters. This fic will be divided into three different long ass parts, so I hope you bear with me and stay with me until the end. It will eventually converge to the canon storyline.
> 
> I'll have to admit that writing a romance for Levi is _very_ challenging. Let's face it: he's probably the last character in AOT to have a romance, but I here I am, enjoying the challenge! I'll also tell you now that this story will have mild to extreme sexual themes. Who doesn't want a Levi smut after all? *wink wonk*
> 
> The title, **omake-pfadlib** , is inspired from the last track from the "Attack on Titan" Original Soundtrack. It first came to my attention after watching 'A Choice With No Regrets'. I also remember hearing it from Episode 22. The track was used after Furlan and Isabel died, and again shortly after Levi's squad died. Thus, I came to associate the it as Levi's mourning song. The title seems random at most, but Hiroyuki Sawano (the composer) has also stated that he doesn't properly name his works because a song doesn't necessarily apply for a certain scene−so this doesn't only apply to Levi in my story, but to all characters involved. Sawano also provided lyrics for his masterpiece. It's very sad, emotional, and fits our brave Survey Corps soldiers.
> 
> Sorry for the long rant! I just wanted to get it all out so for the next chapters, we can solely focus on the story. Any reviews, comments, suggestions, or if you just wanna talk about the characters with me, feel free to leave them for me! I'll be happy to answer anyone's concerns.
> 
> Thank you very much for reading and giving this story (and me) a chance! I hope you all stay safe throughout this pandemic! 💚


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